Your Will, Not Mine
by Archangel Samuel
Summary: "When the time comes, you will watch. But you will do nothing." The angels struggle to follow their Master's orders, even if it means watching Him be tortured and killed before their very eyes. Young Samuel is tempted to disobey. The Easter Story from the angels' perspective.
1. Chapter 1

**Your Will, Not Mine**

There were many angels within the crowd that day. They went among the men and women, unseen and unheard, for they walked on a separate, holy plane. The One who walked the line between was before them now, bearing a great wooden cross from which He would soon be hung.

Michael, robed in shining splendor, watched, his expression hard. His Father's orders had been absolute.

_"When the time comes, you will watch. But you will do nothing."_

"How am I to just stand by and let them hurt You?" Michael had asked, all those years ago, his soul in anguish. There had been no answer, only a repeated command.

_"You will do nothing."_

Michael had understood the Plan. It was the reasoning behind the Plan that he could not comprehend. His Father's perfect love for humanity surpassed even Michael's understanding.

Now, on this fateful day, it was Michael's duty to make sure that his brothers and sisters followed Father's commands, even when his own heart was torn in two.

Raphael, pale and beautiful, stood at Michael's side, staring down at his own shaking hands. They were made to heal. All it would take was one touch, and his Master's wounds would be gone. One touch, and yet, he was forbidden to interfere. He looked at Michael, a silent plea in his eyes. Michael placed a gentle hand on Raphael's shoulder and shook his head.

"We cannot," he whispered.

Gabriel stood on the other side of the path with his shining wings around Mary, trying to help her bear the pain of watching her child suffer. He had felt responsible for her from the moment he first brought her news of the Plan. A young man was also beside Mary, holding her hand in his.

Many others stood in reverent silence, ignoring the noise of the jeering crowd. Some of them covered their faces with their wings, unable to watch. Others could not tear their eyes from the scene. Samuel, dark-haired and youthful, was among them.

Though he had lived for thousands of years, Samuel was still but a child in the sight of the archangels. Tears came to his eyes as he watched his Master stumbling before him, weakened by a battered, human body. He quickly brushed them away.

"There is no shame in weeping," a kind voice said. Samuel felt an arm gently wrap around his shoulders, and he turned to see a tall, unfamiliar angel beside him who shone as brightly as Michael. The unknown celestial being looked down at Samuel with a sad smile. "Father's orders are cruel. I cannot help but wonder if they are a test."

"What do you mean?" Samuel asked as he looked up at the angel's shining face.

"Perhaps it is a test of loyalty," the angel said. "Who among us loves Father enough to save Him, even when under orders not to?"

This troubled Samuel. Father's orders were always clear. He had never tried to trick them before. Samuel looked over at Michael, who kept a steady hand on Raphael, even when the torment was clear on his own face.

"Michael is more loyal than any of us, and he will not allow anyone to interfere," Samuel said softly, his tone suddenly lacking in confidence.

"That is true. Michael is wise, strong, and fiercely loyal. But perhaps he has not stopped to think about what is truly happening here. Watch," the angel said, pointing.

Samuel's gaze was drawn back to the Son. Blood and sweat streamed down His face and back. He was slowing. The crowd was growing louder.

"The cross He bears is heavy, but it is nothing compared to the weight of sin that comes with it. All the sins of the world, even the ones that are yet to be, rest on His shoulders." The unfamiliar angel pointed at the Roman soldiers as he continued, "The one holding the whip, the one holding the hammer and nails, even Longinus, the spear-bearer. Their sins are all upon that cross."

Keeping his arm firmly around Samuel, the angel drew him along with the crowd, following the slow, painful procession.

"What have they done to deserve the Life He offers? Every last one has turned from Him. Not even His twelve chosen could stay by His side."

"John is here," Samuel reasoned, glancing across the crowd at the young man standing beside Mary.

"Yet he makes no attempt at rescue. None of these creatures are truly worth saving. This whole spectacle is nothing but a useless, painful endeavor," the other angel responded, disgust clear in his voice.

"Do not say such things," Samuel said, firmly, though he was unable to deny the logic of the angel's words.

A great clamor arose in the crowd, and Samuel strained to see. The Son had fallen to the ground, the great cross pressing down upon Him. Michael stood nearby, holding both arms out in warning to the other angels. No one was to touch Him.

Samuel felt his eyes filling with tears again, and the bright angel leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Go to Him, Samuel. There is still time to right this wrong."

"But Michael-"

"Michael longs to help as much as any of us. He will understand."

The words were full of reason, and Samuel felt hope filling his heart. It didn't have to end this way.

"Go!" the angel said, giving Samuel a quick shove forward.

Samuel landed on his hands and knees before the Son. He opened his mouth to speak, but words had left him. A Roman soldier, blind to Samuel's presence, impatiently raised his whip. Samuel heard Michael's voice crying his name, but he ignored it as he got up to try and shield his Master from the brutal assault.

The whip came down, but Samuel did not feel its sting. The One who walked the line between felt both the whip and His servant's body trying to protect Him.

"Get back, Samuel!" Michael shouted again, this time reaching for his sword.

The Son raised His hand, silencing the archangel with one motion. He let His gaze fall on Samuel, who was back on his knees.

"Lord, please let us save You!" Samuel implored, finding his voice again. "Let me carry this burden for You. Let me die instead!" He reached for the cross on the Son's shoulders, but his hand went straight through. He could not even touch it.

_"Samuel."_

Samuel felt a thrill as the Son spoke his name.

_"You are a good and faithful servant. But mine is the only Life worthy to be given in this exchange." _

The Son smiled through the pain and reached out to wipe the tears from Samuel's face.

Samuel could not believe it. His Master was mere hours from an agonizing death, yet it was Samuel who was being comforted.

"But why must You die? I do not understand, Lord," Samuel said, begging for an answer.

The whip came down again, and the Son closed His eyes against the sting.

_"It is a matter of love, my child. You will understand when you learn to love humanity as I do. Now go back to your brothers and sisters."_

Samuel shook his head, dissatisfied, but he obeyed and stepped back, his eyes never leaving his Master's face.

A sturdy man from Cyrene was pulled away from his two young sons and ordered to carry the cross for the rest of the journey. When the weight had been lifted from His shoulders, the Son shakily stood and glanced quickly at Michael.

_"There is a serpent among you," _He said, before turning to continue His fateful journey.

Michael drew his sword.

"Lucifer! Show yourself!" he shouted.

The luminous angel stepped forward, but his light was suddenly gone. He was now cloaked in shadow, his face hidden.

"Young Samuel is the only one of you with pity in his heart," Lucifer said. "You should be ashamed, Michael."

"Father's will be done, not ours," Michael responded. "Your attempts at treachery have failed. Leave this place, before my sword rends you as it did before."

Lucifer's body flinched at the memory.

"I was only trying to save _our _Master from needless suffering, dear Brother," Lucifer said, but there was nothing but venom and mockery in his words. "Besides, Samuel knows I'm right. He believed every word I said. Didn't you, Samuel?" Lucifer reached out toward Samuel, but Michael put himself between them.

"Leave. Now." The archangel raised his sword in warning. Lucifer hissed with defiance, but he backed off.

"The plan will not work. The only thing that awaits this God among men is death," he spat.

"Then why, I wonder, did you bother trying to trick Samuel into helping Him?" Michael said, his voice steady.

Lucifer snarled like a wild animal.

"My armies will be waiting for you at the Skull," he said before abruptly turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Michael sheathed his sword and turned to Samuel, who instantly dropped to his knees.

"Samuel-"

"I am sorry, Michael. I let his words deceive me, and I disobeyed your orders," Samuel said, keeping his head down in shame.

"Samuel-"

"Please punish me as you see fit," the younger angel begged.

Michael smiled for the first time that day.

"Samuel." This time there was no interruption. "That was one of Lucifer's more clever schemes. He used your compassion against you. What you did was foolish, but it was done out of love. There is no sin in that."

Michael reached down and took a hold of Samuel's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"Stay by my side, Samuel. We will help each other through this bitter day," he said.

The archangel looked off into the distance and caught a glimpse of the demons gathering on the hilltop, preparing for battle. It felt like a blade was twisting in his heart. He had never expected that he would have to fight for his own Master's death.

_"Your will be done, not mine," _Michael prayed for the hundredth time that day.

The slow march to Golgotha continued.

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><p>AN: Thank you so much for reading! If you have time, please take a moment to leave a comment. I would really like to know what you thought of it!

-Samuel


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story was originally a oneshot, but I got some requests to continue with the "full story," so here we are. I hope not to offend any particular denominations. Please be open-minded!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The path gradually became steeper, and the procession of soldiers and condemned men slowed. Michael moved quickly among his brothers and sisters, giving out orders in preparation for facing the demons on top of the hill. He kept a close watch on Samuel, and the younger angel began to wonder if he had lost his captain's trust.

"Lucifer's demons will do anything to stop the Plan from being carried out," Michael said, addressing the ranks. "Keep them away from the soldiers, and do not let them approach the cross. Destroy as many of them as you can."

"Do not leave your backs unguarded. Their most prized war trophies are the wings of angels," Raphael instructed the younger ones. "If you are hurt, call to me or Ariel right away."

The demons attacked as soon as the procession reached the top of the hill. They set their sights on the man bearing the cross and on the Roman soldiers. Their orders were clear: Do not allow the Son to be crucified. Swords were drawn, and angels were pulled away from their grief to do battle.

Chaos reigned as demons and angels fell upon each other, but neither the soldiers nor the crowd could perceive the battle. Only the Son was aware of what was going on, and even He was too focused on His humanity, and the pain associated with it, to pay any attention to the commotion.

Samuel watched as a demon attacked the soldier who carried the hammer and nails, the creature wrapping its spindly arms around the man. Though the soldier could not feel the demon's touch, he was suddenly aware of foreign thoughts and emotions entering his heart. "_You should not be here. You should be anywhere but here. Better at the bottom of a cliff than here_," his thoughts told him. The soldier found himself dropping the tools and sprinting to the edge of the steep hill that he had just climbed. Samuel broke from Michael's side to run after the demon-possessed man.

"Release him!" Samuel cried when he caught up, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. The demon broke its grip on the soldier and instantly turned its attack on the young angel. Samuel gasped in pain and terror when the demon's claws met his side, tearing into him. Yet, as soon as Samuel raised his own sword to attack, the demon disappeared, too cowardly to finish what it had started. The soldier blinked several times, wondering how long he had been dreaming, before shrugging and turning back toward the gathered crowd.

Sighing with relief, Samuel reached for his bleeding side only to find another hand already there, healing his torn flesh. His eyes met Raphael's, and he smiled in gratitude. The healer did not return the gesture.

"You need to be more careful, Little Brother."

Seconds later, the wound was gone, and so was Raphael.

* * *

><p>Michael was too distracted to notice that Samuel had left him. Lucifer was approaching, just as he had expected.<p>

"Give up, Lucifer. Your ranks are weak in number and resolve," Michael said. "Do you really want a repeat of what happened last time?"

"It would be worth it for a chance to cleave your flesh again as you clove mine," Lucifer responded with bitterness, but then continued, "I do not doubt the strength of your army, and I admit that my own followers have no chance of defeating you. But at least I can find consolation in what I have already won."

"You have won _nothing,_" Michael said, surprised by his own rage. He could not stand Lucifer's unending arrogance, the sick, withered reflection of his former beauty and glory.

"Only the thing that matters most to Father. There is more of me in their hearts than there ever will be of Him. They may be His children, but they are and always will be _my_ prize."

With that final statement, Lucifer disappeared, his ranks following soon after.

The battle was over, but the angels saw no reason to rejoice. Lucifer's parting declaration hung heavy in the air, the scene before them offering evidence of the somber truth in his words. The cross was already laid down, and they watched in despair as the Son was unceremoniously positioned onto it. Their grief, momentarily swept aside by the excitement of battle, now returned tenfold.

The soldier, still trembling from his momentary demonic possession, knelt down to fulfill his part of the Plan. At the pounding of the first nail and the Son's sharp intake of breath that accompanied it, a woman's scream rose up from the crowd.

"My son! _My son!_" Mary cried, echoing the grief of David. There was no knowledge of resurrection and salvation in her mind, only the unspeakable pain of a mother made to watch her child be murdered. She tried to run to His side, to comfort Him, to kiss away His pain as she had done when He was only a child. It was John who held her back, protecting her from the wrath of the soldiers who stood with their swords drawn in warning. The soldier with the hammer and nails continued his work, unaware of the tears that streamed down his face.

A final nail was driven into the cross, attaching a sign written in several languages. The cross was raised up, and angels and men alike read the words: THE KING OF THE JEWS. Many people in the crowd began shouting insults, calling for the Son to free himself. One of the thieves on the cross beside him even found the strength to jeer along with the crowd. The soldiers, their own labors complete for the moment, began gambling over the Son's bloodstained clothing.

Raphael could not keep his silence any longer, and he cried out in his grief and rage, "He is not a king of Jews, but the King of both Heaven and Earth! How dare you mock the One who comes to save you?"

"Peace, Raphael," Michael said, but vengeance was in his heart as well. He looked up at the cross and addressed his Master directly, "Lord, You only have to say the word, and we shall strike them down where they stand. At Your command they shall feel the sting of retribution!"

But even as the archangel's words fell on the deaf ears of the soldiers casting lots at the foot of the cross, the Son spoke in their defense.

_"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do."_

The soldiers stopped, momentarily stunned by the words of pardon no victim of theirs had ever uttered. They looked up at the cross, and then to each other. They shared a nervous laugh as the initial shock wore off. Surely this man was more senseless than they had originally thought!

Michael shook his head in wonder.

"What manner of love is this?" he said to no one. He turned to the other angels who all looked to him for guidance, and spoke in a voice broken with sorrow.

"Lucifer was right," he said hoarsely, shocking his brothers and sisters. "They are not worth saving. Not as they are now."

"That is why this sacrifice is necessary. It is Father's love that makes them worthy," Gabriel spoke with conviction, his own love for humanity stirring in his heart. "Does a mother not cherish her child unconditionally?" he asked, his gaze falling upon the weeping Mary.

The other thief crucified to the right of the Son offered no insults, only a confession of his guilt and a request for salvation. The Son offered him words of assurance in return.

_"Today you will be with me in paradise."_

* * *

><p>Hours passed, and the Son remained awake and alert, but silent, unlike the thieves who moaned in agony on either side of Him. His mother was still weeping, and He took pity on her.<p>

_"Behold your son," _He said, glancing from Mary to John. _"Behold your mother."_

"Let it be as You say," John answered, holding Mary's hand in his.

"Thank you, Lord," Gabriel whispered, his worries melting away. Mary had become very dear to him, and he was relieved to see that she would be taken care of.

Soon after, the sky suddenly became dark, though it was only midday. Another hour passed, and the Son's suffering increased as it became harder for Him to breathe.

The angels were looking more and more like lost sheep, and Michael tried his best to reassure them. "It is almost over," he said, praying that he was right.

The Son shifted on the cross, struggling for air. "Listen," several onlookers murmured, "He's going to say something."

The Son suddenly spoke in a loud voice that no longer carried calm acceptance, but fear and abandonment.

_"My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?"_

The crowd became disquieted again, many of them wondering aloud what His words meant. The angels were confused as well, and they looked to Michael for explanation.

It was Raphael who spoke out immediately, "His human side cries for help. Let me heal Him, Michael, I beg of you!"

Michael remained strong. "If we interfere now it will undo everything that has been accomplished up until this day. This is our final test of obedience. Father's will be done."

"And what of the Son's will?" Raphael countered, his instinct to heal getting the best of him. He approached the cross, reaching out toward the feet of the Son.

Michael put himself between them, his sword instantly drawn. He spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Your hands have healed countless wounds, including my own, and it sickens me to even think of hurting you. But the salvation of mankind is at stake. If you come any closer, I will not hesitate to raise my sword against you."

The rest of the angels watched in terrified silence as their leader threatened their healer. Raphael looked at his brother with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. He took one step forward, then another.

Michael couldn't believe what was happening. His vision clouded with tears as he raised his sword to strike. Samuel, now back at his captain's side, took Michael's arm in both his hands, begging for him to stop. The archangel easily shook him off.

Raphael reached out, but it was toward his brother, not the Son. Michael froze mid-swing just as Raphael fell to his knees, his head bowed.

"Why is Father doing this to us?" the healer whispered.

The sword fell to the ground with a loud _clang, _and Michael's arms were around Raphael long before the sound had died.

"This has nothing to do with us," Michael responded. He looked up at the lost faces surrounding him. "It is almost over," he repeated to them as he held his brother tightly. "We must be patient. When He triumphs, our mourning will be dancing."

_"I am thirsty."_

The two archangels stood and looked back up at the One who had spoken. A soldier offered up a sponge that had been dipped in sour wine, and the Son accepted a few sips before speaking again.

_"It is finished."_

The Son had to gasp several times before He had enough breath to speak again, but there was strength in His voice as He said His final words:

_"Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit."_

There was a great thunderous noise, and the earth shook as the Son breathed His last.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you will forgive the added drama with Raphael…He's always independent and stubborn when I write him.

Please take a moment to let me know what you thought, and to share any helpful ideas you might have!

-Samuel


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: An update for you! Forgive me for not completing it by Easter…One more chapter after this!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

For a long while, the only sounds were the soft sobs of the women at the foot of the cross. Then, one at a time, questions filled the air at what the people had just witnessed.

Samuel turned to his leader. "Is He truly dead?" the younger angel asked.

"His earthly body no longer draws breath," Michael said, quietly.

The stab of grief tore through Samuel, and he felt like he was choking. He fell to the ground, unforeseen sobs wracking his body against his will. He hadn't expected it to hurt this much. He felt Michael's hand on his back, and he remembered the tenderness the Son had shown him only hours before by wiping away his tears. How could such perfect, selfless love be dead and gone?

"Oh, Samuel," Michael gently consoled his younger brother. "The Son will never be truly dead. We must watch and wait, as we were commanded to."The words were comforting, but Samuel did not miss the apprehension also present in the archangel's voice. Even Michael was not sure of what was to come.

"Out of the way!"

A centurion with a long, deadly spear pushed his way through the crowd.

Samuel understood immediately who the man was. _"…even Longinus, the spear-bearer. Their sins are all upon that cross," _Lucifer had said.

Longinus looked up at the bodies now hanging still and silent on the crosses, then to the other soldiers awaiting a command. He was swift to give it.

"Break their legs."

The one holding a great wooden club had been waiting for this command. It would mean they could all go home earlier than expected. The soldier approached the first thief and raised the club. Even the centurion grimaced at the tortured scream that followed. The thief was dead moments later, and the soldier moved past the center cross to the other side, secretly hoping that he would not be required to offer the killing blow to the man who many were calling the Son of God. The other thief made no sound when his bones were shattered. He had already died. The soldier felt his hands shaking as he turned to the center cross.

"Let Him be! Have you not done enough already?" Samuel heard himself begging, though he knew that they could not hear him. He felt Michael's hand tense slightly against his back. Several other angels also lifted their voices in futile protest. They could not bear to see their Master's body further mutilated. Michael remained silent. He was one of the few who knew what had been prophesied.

The soldier raised his club once more, but the centurion stopped him.

"Not this one," Longinus said, and the soldier beneath him exhaled with relief, backing away. Longinus expertly lifted the spear, and John had just enough time to cover Mary's face before her Son's body was pierced once more. Samuel shut his eyes, but Michael watched the blood and water pour from the wound left in the Son's side.

_"__This is my blood, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins…" _the archangel quoted as he watched the Plan being fulfilled before his eyes. He bowed on one knee in worship, and the angels who were still standing bowed with him.

"Worthy is the Lamb," Gabriel said, solemnly recalling the first time he looked upon the infant who was born to die.

* * *

><p>Longinus turned to the other soldiers and spoke: "Dead. Take them down and clear the crowds. Then you can go home to your pretty wives," he added with a smirk. The Roman soldiers brightened slightly and got quickly to work. Most executions lasted much longer than this one.<p>

Two of the soldiers tentatively approached the center cross and raised a ladder.

"Wait!"

Two men came running up the hill, panting with exertion. The one who had spoken held out a scroll, which he offered to the centurion.

"I come with express permission from Pilate. The Nazarene's body belongs to me."

Longinus accepted the scroll and quickly unrolled it, examining its contents.

"Joseph of Arimathea?" the centurion questioned, looking up at the man before him dressed in the robes of the synagogue.

"I am he," the man responded.

Longinus nodded and studied the document once more. He handed it back to Joseph, satisfied with the official seal and signature.

"The body is yours. Shall we remove it for you?"

Joseph looked over at the soldiers roughly tearing the nails from the other crosses and unceremoniously dropping the bodies to the ground. His jaw tensed slightly.

"That is not necessary. We will get Him down ourselves," the other man, an older Pharisee, spoke up.

"You will get blood on your fancy robes," Longinus said, but he dismissed the soldiers at the Son's cross with a quick wave of his hand.

Joseph and the older man approached the cross with humility. Joseph climbed the ladder and carefully removed the nails from the Son's hands and feet. The Pharisee assisted in gently lowering the Son's body to the ground, where His mother's hands were there to receive Him.

No one stopped Mary as she went to cradle her son one last time before his burial. Her soft, silent tears were a surprise to Samuel. He had expected her to wail in sorrow, like the other women there. Instead, Mary began to sing a familiar lullaby.

_"__Lully, Lullay…" _she sang over and over again, meaningless, yet soothing words. The remaining soldiers purposefully made themselves busy dealing with the other bodies and shooing the crowds away. They were unused to such displays of tenderness following the execution of a criminal.

"What will happen now?" Samuel asked, feeling suddenly weary in both body and soul.

Michael stood and looked around at his brothers and sisters, all still kneeling on the ground in their worshipful mourning.

"We will grieve. And we will wait," Michael finally answered. He could not think of anything comforting to say.

Soon after, the men and women who had loved the Son took Him from His mother's arms and bore Him away. The angels stood one by one and followed the group to a tomb half a mile from the execution site. Joseph and the older Pharisee who was with him wrapped the Son in strips of linen cloth and placed Him in the tomb, which had been carved out of rock. A large stone was rolled in front of the entrance, and the mourners reluctantly left to begin their preparations for the Sabbath.

The angels remained, wings folded tightly to their backs and heads bowed in sorrow. Michael broke away from the others, eager to speak directly with his Father in a still, quiet place. He found such a place under a dogwood tree a hundred meters from the tomb.

"Father," the archangel prayed, "I watched the Son suffer and die. More than that, I ensured it. Please, tell me I have not done wrong!"

_"__You have done as I asked."_

Michael trembled with both anxiety and elation, as he always did when he heard his Father's voice.

"The others are broken in spirit," Michael said, his voice gaining strength. "You chose me to lead them, but I have never felt so powerless. What can I say to them to ease this pain?"

_"__Nothing."_

The shock of this unexpected answer sent a shudder through Michael's body. It took several seconds for him to find his voice again.

"I…I do not understand, Lord."

_"__My Son is dead. This pain cannot be eased with words. It must be borne."_

Michael could not breathe. He had approached his Father seeking comfort and assurance, not more pain. His tears, which had been threatening to spill over since the flogging, finally flowed freely, seen only by his Father. The archangel continued to weep for several minutes, feeling completely and utterly abandoned. Finally, his Father's voice returned, this time with the familiar warmth that Michael constantly longed for.

_"__Fear not, my child. Joy approaches, stronger than anything you have ever felt."_

"Soon?" Michael asked, yearned, begged.

_"__Three days."_

Even three minutes was too long, but Michael was reassured nonetheless.

"What are my orders?" he asked, sensing that the exchange was nearing an end.

_"__Send the others back to Galilee to wait. Leave only the young one, Samuel, at the tomb."_

"I will do as you say," Michael responded.

The archangel returned the tomb and quickly conveyed his Father's instructions to the angels. They stood and spread their wings, eager to do what was asked of them.

"Not you, Samuel," Michael said as the younger angel moved to joined the others. "You are to stay here. Alone."

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for sticking with me this far! Feel free to leave comments or suggestions, I really appreciate it!**

**-Samuel**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Oh dear. It appears I lied last time: this is not the last chapter. I got carried away, and this one got rather long, so there's going to be (at least) one more after this. Thanks for your patience! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"Have I done something wrong?"

The others had already gone, leaving only Samuel and their leader behind. The younger angel wasn't coping as well as Michael had hoped he would.

"These are Father's instructions. His reasoning is His own," Michael answered.

"It is a punishment," Samuel said, more to himself than to Michael. "None of us were supposed to interfere, but I disobeyed." He looked up at his brother, pleading with him. "This place smells of blood, pain, and death. Please do not leave me here alone!"

Michael felt his heart go out to the younger angel. Samuel was more than confused; he was frightened. The angels relied on each other for strength. Solitude was something they all actively avoided.

"You will be fine by yourself. Father is always with you, as He is with all of us," Michael said, kindly. He reached out and ruffled Samuel's dark hair, coaxing a small smile out of younger angel. The archangel returned the smile and stepped back, spreading his magnificent wings. "Remain here three days. Everything will be all right after three days." Michael took flight.

Samuel was left behind in the deathly quiet of the gravesite. Night fell, and he spent the hours watching and waiting for a sign of the triumph that Michael had promised.

The next morning, four Roman soldiers approached the tomb in full battle array, followed closely by the priests and elders responsible for the Son's arrest. Samuel stood nearby as several of them combined their strength to roll the great stone aside. He followed them in and watched them each take a turn examining the Son's body. Satisfied to find the Son cold and still, the group left the tomb and replaced stone.

One of the elders addressed the others softy, almost regretfully: "What is done is done." He was met with quiet nods of agreement.

The priests and elders went back to the city, leaving the four Roman soldiers behind. The soldiers took their places and showed no intention of leaving. Somehow, their presence made Samuel feel even more alone. He sat on a large stone nearby and continued to watch and wait.

Several hours passed as Samuel prayed for patience and for companionship, and he eventually began to listen to the idle chatter of the soldiers. One of them was complaining loudly to the others about being required to guard a corpse.

"What would his followers accomplish by stealing their lord's body? I say let them have it! Less trouble for the rest of us," the young soldier said, obviously trying to impress his brothers-in-arms. An older soldier, clearly close to retirement, shook his head.

"Haven't you heard them? His followers speak of him as we speak of Mithras. There are whispers of resurrection."

At the mention of the word "_resurrection_" Samuel stood and stepped closer, suddenly wholeheartedly invested in what the soldiers had to say.

"If they have a chance to remove his body then who is to stop the Jews from proclaiming their lord's ascension? The empty tomb will be their proof," the older soldier continued. The other two soldiers nodded in agreement, leaving the first to sulk as he tried to think of a clever response. Finding none, he wisely kept his mouth shut. The conversation shifted to a new topic, and Samuel returned to the rock and to his prayers with renewed hope.

_"__Resurrection…Is this the triumph Michael spoke of?"_

* * *

><p>More time passed, and Samuel hardly noticed when the four soldiers were eventually relieved by another set of four, nor did he notice the two other changes of guard that took place before night fell. The sun finally set, and Samuel listened to the crackling of the soldiers' torches and watched the tomb for any signs of change.<p>

At the darkest point in the night, a bright light suddenly flashed, and a glorious angelic figure appeared before Samuel. The young angel stood and felt the warmth and light shine upon him.

"Michael!" he cried, believing the archangel had returned. But as soon as he had spoken the warmth and light vanished, and all he could see were red eyes and the outline of a form so dark that it seemed to repel light.

"You really are as naïve as you seem to be," the figure said, and Samuel instantly recognized the voice. He drew his sword and stepped back, holding it out in front of him.

"Don't be stupid," Lucifer continued. "Did your big brothers forget to tell you that only Michael's sword can hurt me?"

_"__Michael, help me!" _

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "Are you praying for his help now? Archangel Michael would never disobey an order, not even to save the Son, much less a lowly angel. If I remember correctly, you are to be left _alone._" Lucifer drew the last word out mockingly.

Samuel's entire body trembled as the terror left him cold as ice. Lucifer was far stronger than Samuel could ever hope to be.

_"__Father, help me!"_

"Don't bother praying to Him either. You are no more than the tiniest sparrow to one as great as Father."

Samuel felt despair closing in on him. How was it that Lucifer was always right? Michael would not defy orders, and it was true that a lowly angel like him might as well have been a sparrow in his Father's eyes.

Lucifer's voice returned, but now it was gentle, almost kind.

"I am not here to destroy you, little one. I am here to offer you a chance to be more than just a sparrow."

Lucifer reached out to touch Samuel, and the younger angel instinctively swung his sword, striking Lucifer's arm. The sword instantly caught fire, searing Samuel's hands before he dropped it with a yelp of pain. Lucifer acted as if nothing had happened, placing his hand on Samuel's shoulder with the same tenderness that Michael had shown.

"I see a reputable defiance in you, Samuel; a desire to do what is right in your eyes alone. I see great potential. You would not be a lowly demon, but a leader. Your wings would be ten times as big and a hundred times as strong."

As Lucifer spoke, Samuel felt his wings morphing and growing. He looked over his shoulder to see his feathers disappearing and his wings turning black. Thin, red webbing replaced white feathers as his wings continued to grow and transform. He felt power coursing through them, begging to be tested. With one mighty flap he was instantly airborne, flying faster than he ever had before. Lucifer, his own black, feathered wings unfurled, flew beside Samuel, racing him to nowhere. Samuel had never felt such exhilarating freedom and strength in his entire life.

_"__Remain here three days." _

Samuel heard Michael's voice over the sound of the wind rushing by his ears. The young angel faltered, looking around him only to see endless white clouds. He dove straight down and quickly found his way back to the tomb, landing with flawless precision. The wings were everything Samuel could have hoped for, but they had driven reason from his mind, causing him to forget himself and his mission. The wings were as evil as they were powerful, and Samuel knew he only had one more chance to cast them aside.

"Take them away," he begged Lucifer as the fallen angel landed beside him.

"Don't you like them? They could be yours for all eternity."

"I said take them away!"

"Your old wings are gone. You won't have anything left."

Terror and agony entered Samuel's heart, but he knew he could not falter.

"TAKE THEM AWAY!" he screamed as loud as he could. He began to claw at his back with burnt and bloody hands.

Lucifer obeyed, amazed at the little one's strength of will. He reached out and plucked the wings from Samuel's back, then cast them aside where they quickly turned to ash and blew away. He waved his hand, and white, feathered wings sprouted from Samuel's back, and the burns on his hands instantly healed. Samuel looked at his wings and then back to Lucifer with a mixture of gratitude and confusion.

The fallen angel seemed to shrug with defeat.

"I couldn't leave a fine warrior like yourself so badly maimed. I will be back for you someday, Samuel."

Lucifer disappeared as quickly as he had come, leaving Samuel nearly weeping with relief at what he had managed to avoid. He knelt to the ground and gave thanks to his Father for giving him the strength to resist temptation.

_"__Just a few more hours," _the young angel told himself as he stood back up. He resumed his watch on the rock nearby with a wonderful, peaceful feeling that the worst had finally passed.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! Any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! :)**

**-Samuel**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Finally complete! Thank you all so much for reading this far. Writing this story has been such a satisfying, rewarding process. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

In the early hours of the morning Samuel became restless with not only excitement, but also fear and trepidation. What if the rumors of resurrection had all been a cruel lie he had been tricked into believing? The sun was beginning to rise, and there was still no sign of life from the silent tomb.

Just as his fears began to fester, Samuel was rescued by a gentle but strong voice calling his name.

_"__Samuel."_

Though no longer weakened by pain and exhaustion, it was undoubtedly the same voice that had spoken his name three days before on the road to Golgotha. Doubt still entered Samuel's heart unbidden. Surely Lucifer had returned, and this was some new trick designed to lead the young angel astray. Wasn't it foolish to think that such joy could exist after all the grief and pain of these past few days?

"H-How do I know that you are my Lord?" Samuel asked, hardly daring to hope.

_"__Roll this stone aside."_

The order was so commanding that even Lucifer would not have been able to disobey.

Samuel did not hesitate. He rushed to the stone and was surprised to find that he could touch it. Just as he began to push against it he heard a sudden cry of terror. He turned to see the Roman soldiers pointing at him and becoming pale with fear. Two of them fainted and remained deathly still on the ground, and the others flung their weapons down as they ran.

Samuel turned back to the stone and pressed against it once more. It rolled aside without the slightest effort. A blinding light flashed and quickly faded. In its place stood a familiar figure.

The Son still looked like a man, but there could be no doubt that He was now completely divine. His clothes were as white as snow and dazzled even brighter than Michael's.

"My Lord, it is You!" Samuel cried. He fell to his knees and wept for joy, all doubt blissfully washed from his mind. The Son stepped closer, and Samuel bent to kiss His clothes and His feet. The angel stopped when he saw the wounds that had remained. He looked up and saw the injuries on his Master's hands as well.

"Your wounds…?" Samuel said, confused. The Son reached down with one damaged hand and lifted Samuel to his feet.

_"__They are proof for those who will doubt."_

"Forgive me, Lord!" Samuel begged. "I will never doubt You again!"

_"__All is forgiven, My child, now and forevermore." _The Son's face held only kindness and joy.

_"__Now listen: I have one final task for you. Two women will soon be here with great sorrow in their hearts. You must tell them what has come to pass, so that they may tell my disciples."_

Samuel reached up and brushed the tears from his cheeks. "I will do as you command," he said. _But… _He hesitated. Lowly angels had no place asking impertinent questions.

Before Samuel could say anything else, the Son voiced the unspoken question.

_"__You want to know why I chose you and not one of the Archangels." _The Son's broad smile shone like the sun.

Samuel bowed his head. "I can think of hundreds who are far more worthy than I. I am no archangel, nor seraph, nor cherub."

_"__I chose you because you are the sparrow."_

And just as suddenly as the Son had appeared to Samuel, He was gone.

Samuel looked around. Though his Lord had left, His presence was still everywhere. Samuel saw Him in the grass and flowers that now grew where only the dead had lingered. He heard his Lord in the birds that sang where no living creatures had ventured before. He could feel the presence of the risen Son all around him, creating life and light, _being _life and light. Samuel closed his eyes and smiled. He laughed. He danced. He spread his wings and soared.

Samuel landed back on the ground still laughing, and he wondered how it was possible for him to feel this much joy. Then he remembered his task. Two women would be coming soon, women who had suffered greatly and continued to suffer at the loss of One whom they had loved. Samuel looked at the stone that had shut his Lord away, the symbol of a grave that had been conquered. With a playful smirk, Samuel spread his wings and set himself upon the huge stone.

"Where is your power now?" Samuel asked of the stone. The stone did not reply.

He looked into the distance and saw that the two women were indeed approaching. They carried bags of herbs and spices, and their faces were dark with pain.

_How can they not feel it? _Samuel wondered. _How do they not yet realize what has happened?_

When the women got to the tomb, they saw that the stone had been rolled aside. The Father opened their eyes as they looked at the stone, and they were terrified to see a man whose appearance was like lightning.

Samuel remembered what Gabriel always said to humans who had never seen an angel before.

"Do not be afraid," Samuel said, and he was surprised at the strength and volume of his own voice. "I know you seek the One who was crucified."

The women, still afraid but now finding courage within their hearts, stepped closer. The one Samuel recognized as Mary Magdalene spoke up.

"Where is my Lord? Where has He been taken?"

Samuel saw that both she and the other woman were weeping. He could not bear to let them hurt any longer.

"He is risen," Samuel said. He spoke again, even louder. "He is not here, for He is risen! Come, see the place where He lay."

Samuel hopped off the stone and led the terrified women into the tomb, which contained only scraps of the cloth their Lord had been wrapped in. Their minds were opened, and in their hearts they knew that He was alive.

"He is going before you to Galilee, where you will see Him," Samuel said, hardly able to contain his own excitement. "You must tell His disciples, and quickly. They must know the joy you know!"

The women ran from the tomb, laughing and crying, trembling and rejoicing.

Samuel watched them go with a huge grin on his face. Soon the Son's disciples would know, and their disciples would know, and someday the whole world would know what the Son had done for them.

"Well done, Brother."

The voice was distinctly Michael's, and Samuel ran to it, no longer afraid of Lucifer and his half-hearted attempts at trickery.

Michael, looking brighter and more beautiful than ever, put an arm around Samuel, and the smaller angel leaned into the embrace, surprised at how exhausting all his joy had been.

"Well done," Michael repeated. "I was so afraid for you when Lucifer returned. I begged Father to let me defend you, but He knew what I should have already known. Forgive me for doubting the strength of your heart."

"How can I blame you for doubting me when I doubted myself?" Samuel said.

Michael smiled. "You are tired. Come, we shall sit and rest a while." He gently lowered Samuel to the ground just outside the tomb and then sat down beside him.

"Lucifer told me something strange before he left. He said I was no more than the tiniest sparrow in Father's eyes. Then, earlier this morning when I asked the Son why He chose me, He said I was the sparrow." Samuel said, softly.

"Did it hurt to hear it from the Son?" Michael asked, patiently.

"Not like I feel it should have. He said it with such…love. But I don't understand. What did He mean?"

"You may prefer not to know."

"Please, Michael."

The archangel looked at Samuel with a mixture of compassion and pity.

"The Son calls you the sparrow because you are small, weak, and seemingly insignificant. So are the holy Mother and Mary Magdalene. But you even more so, for when mankind celebrates the Son's birth, they will speak of Gabriel, Mary, and Joseph. When they observe His death and glorious resurrection, the names of Peter, John, and Mary Magdalene will be on their lips." He paused, but Samuel did not speak. Michael's voice softened as he continued.

"The name of the angel at the tomb, the first one to see the risen Savior and the first messenger to proclaim the good news, will be forgotten by humanity."

Samuel looked down. Michael leaned in closer to him.

"But your brothers and sisters will not forget you, and neither will Father. Not even the falling of a sparrow escapes Father's eyes. This honor He has given you is His way of showing that even the smallest creature can bring glory to His name. You are His precious creation, now and forevermore. Do you understand?"

Samuel nodded, his strength suddenly back. "I am His. Now and forevermore," he said, echoing Michael's words.

"That you are, Brother," said Michael. He stood up, grabbing Samuel's hand and pulling him up as well. "It is selfish to keep all this joy to ourselves. We must go find our brothers and sisters. There are songs to be sung!" He playfully ruffled Samuel's hair and then spread his powerful wings. He was instantly in the air, far above Samuel. He called back down to his little brother, "Well? Are you coming?"

Samuel knew he could not compete with Michael, but he spread his smaller wings anyway, reaching Michael's height a few moments later. The archangel smiled at his little brother before flying on ahead, clearly intent on being chased.

"Michael, wait!" Samuel called out.

Michael turned, concern on his face. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Samuel just smiled and spoke the words that he was determined to say every day for the rest of his life.

"He is risen!"

Michael visibly relaxed. Though he knew that there were still battles to be fought, he could take comfort in that fact that today had been a pivotal victory for all of creation. Everything would be different now that death had been conquered entirely.

Michael opened his mouth and shouted his response loud enough for every demon and angel to hear.

"He is risen indeed!"

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for sticking to the end! I really hope you enjoyed. Feel free to leave feedback and/or suggestions for what to work on next (this girl needs any inspiration she can get!)**

**I just have one more thing to say: If you ever find yourself feeling ugly, ****insignificant, or unloved, please please PLEASE remember how precious you are. Not even the smallest of sparrows escapes His sight, and you are not a sparrow but a human being. There is Someone who loves you so much that He died for you. You are beautiful, you are important, and you are loved.**

**You're not alone. PM me if you need to talk.**

**-Samuel**


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